


Theatre

by Morty_Writes



Category: Civilization (Video Games), New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 05:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15700713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morty_Writes/pseuds/Morty_Writes
Summary: The events of Chapter 3, reimagined as a Civ V match.It was the game of love, companionship, and betrayal. They claimed resources scattered all over the continent, built wonders, and established trade.  Were they generous towards their people? Or were they cruel tyrants? Were they secular or religious? Was it knowledge that led them forward? Was it military strength? How much were they willing to sacrifice for their empires to prosper?The empress of Ethiopia created an alliance, willing to unite everyone under the reign of one and only god, but not all members of the congress were willing to conform to her ideals.





	1. Act 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover I wrote for the weekly prompt in the Danganronpa Amino, which was games. I made it for my own entertainment mostly and as an exercise in thought. Please remember that it's not political commentary and it doesn't have any connection to real-life events.

**Their Idol**

Angie closed her eyes and felt the pleasant breeze of the coming fall. With the new season, she expected change. The promised paradise was already there, waiting for its guests in the pristine blue mist of Ras Dejen in the Ethiopian Highlands.

The life of the holy city of Addis Ababa seemed hectic, though relatively outdated compared to other capitals. Angie spent years trying to conserve the old traditions, art, and culture. Instead of building warships, she used her charisma and diplomatic talent to make powerful allies, who would protect her as the bringer of peace, faith, and prosperity to their lands.

Angie, dressed in green, was standing on the balcony, enjoying her coffee and watching the busy streets of her glorious capital. A beautiful, yet deceptive sight: a wise ruler shouldn’t be fooled by picturesque views, even if things appear to run so smoothly. All the nations seemed to either love or envy her, while most modern thinkers painted her as the messiah destined to start a new era.

It was too easy to get lost in one’s own world. Angie believed in Atua and saw herself merely as a tool spreading His divine will, serving the poor misguided people – but was she any better from the great dictators, who fell into the same trap, consumed by their egos, and sacrificed thousands just to prove a point?

“Your Imperial Majesty, all the guests have arrived! They are waiting for you in the meeting room.”

Angie could never know the answer to her question.

 

**Her Worshippers**

All the great leaders gathered around a round table, perfect for heated discussions. The servants brought various regional specialties and drinks to light up the mood, though only Tenko of China couldn’t resist the temptation. The hall seemed bigger with its white marble walls, wide windows, and a huge glass chandelier reflecting the pink evening light. This small fire made the atmosphere more intimate, as if they were close friends and not allies participating in a massive crusade against heresy and warmongering.

“Please, listen to me! My spies reported that the leaders of Korea and Japan might be conspiring against our alliance,” Keebo showed the telegrams sent by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the United States. “The Doge of Venice is suspicious too, but for now we can’t establish any possible connections,” he was wearing a dark brown coat and breeches reminiscent of the Colonial style. In his left hand Keebo held a blackthorn walking cane, used as way to catch everybody’s attention whenever the topic changed.

“Espionage… is way too much work”, Himiko represented Egypt, one of the least ambitious nations; nothing really concerned her aside from finishing the Neuschwanstein Castle without being disturbed and digging centuries-old tombs. “Why is expansion so important to them? Can’t we… all live together and praise the divine Atua?” the pharaoh put her palms together and gazed up, as if she was searching for an answer from somewhere above.

Gonta of India, who kept silent for most of the time, nodded in agreement, mumbling about friendship and world peace. Tsumugi of Carthage also agreed.

“They might pose a threat to our plan, Your Majesty!” Keebo glared at Angie intensely. “We should do something… Please!” her calmness was soothing, if not silencing and hypnotizing. The pink chandelier reminded a halo around her head, as if she came down from heaven to preach about the divine teaching. “We must…” looking into her kind gray eyes, he started feeling helpless. Overpowered.

Nobody listened to him, despite the all the warnings – again.

“Thank you for the provided information,” Angie smiled gracefully. Her gentle presence illuminated the room; she herself was the sun, bringing happiness and warmth to everyone around her.

Her politeness was ruthless and crushing, like a blow on the head.

“But for now, we should think about the upcoming congress and pray for our success. Atua promised me we will win no matter what, so there’s no need to be afraid. I invited you to celebrate our victory, not sow any chaos.”

Keebo, filled with anger and fear, clenched his fists and bowed obediently.

 

**Heretics**

The Imperial Garden, concealed in white morning haze, seemed haunted by an evil spirit. Color was absent, aside from the vibrant blood red of the maples sitting around the pond. The vomit-inducing crimson splatters reminded Shuichi of the demonic Hannya mask he saw during a Noh performance while visiting Japan. Its sinister grin was painted with malice and hatred, showing the lingering darkness in the human heart – yet, at the same time, it was suffering.

“She won’t be able to,” Maki stopped in the middle of a wooden bridge, waiting for Shuichi to catch up with her. “There are still people opposed to her ideas,” she herself was wearing an elegant maroon junihitoe, fitting the grim atmosphere of her domain. “This is our hope.”

“We should be on our guard, especially since Rome won’t be able to aid us in battle.”

“The Doge of Venice is a wildcard, but I don’t think he will let this happen, no matter how entertaining the situation is to him. The Mayans aren’t voting for this rotten ideology either, not after she sent her prophets to their lands.”

The air was so fresh and chill Shuichi started trembling a little. He leaned on the fence, staring at Maki’s stern reflection in the crystal-clear water. Those on her bad side could only pray for forgiveness. She acted quiet, but her knowledge of the political game was undisputable: no matter the circumstances, the Empress never played by Angie’s rules.

“An Ethiopian spy had been caught in Seoul. I decided not to address this publicly, but her actions are still concerning me.”

“Why didn’t you?” Maki’s still reflection suddenly moved and looked back at him in surprise.

“I didn’t want any more disputes. Her alliance shouldn’t be toyed with, Your Highness. It’s dangerous to throw accusations around so carelessly, especially when she has powerful allies by her side.”

“You should be able to stand your ground no matter what.”

“I-I... can’t agree with that. I’m in no position to act recklessly when the lives of many Korean people are at stakes.”

“Are you scared of her?”

He averted his gaze nervously.

“Yes, I am.”

Shuichi didn’t know whom she was asking about.


	2. Act 2

**A Noble Cause**

Tenko read through the reports again: Japanese spies were causing mayhem around the palace, watching every step the Empress made and stealing the most important secrets a country could have. The leaders of Ethiopia and the US were guilty of this, too, but they both expected to be easily forgiven. On the contrary, whenever somebody else tried to take control of the current political situation, there were no excuses.

“A sacrifice should be made!” Angie exclaimed, facing a marble statue depicting the inner struggle of a firm believer, made as a gift by an artist. A young man’s delicate, even effeminate features were both fearful and full of hope, as if he was asking for redemption after committing a sin. “For the sake of Atua,” it looked foreign when compared to other pieces of art from Angie’s gallery, yet she appreciated the craft.

Harsh shadows on Angie’s face, combined with a sinister sparkle in her eyes, gave her almost diabolical features. She was smiling, as always, but there seemed to be something unsettling about her smirk – Tenko couldn’t understand what exactly. The room felt abnormally hot, with the smell of melting wax filling the thick air. The windows, reflecting their translucent figures and the orange light from the candles, were sealed.

“D-do you want to declare a war on Japan and Korea?!”

“Me? I’m just a ruler of a small land! This is not a selfish wish of mine. Atua wants me to save the people of Japan and Korea, who believe in Him but cannot be heard.”

Tenko had heard of a rumour that only the chosen ones could stay in the palace without going mad, but she never believed it. Having seen the truth by herself, she was struck with horror: why would anyone have a candlelit hall for a marble statue, especially if this all has some kind of a religious subtext that makes no sense to anyone other than Angie?

“Our duty is to bring hope to these people. Don’t they deserve to be reunited with Atua?”

Her skin started feeling sticky, like glue. Her heart was racing, with its chaotic beat resonating with her whole body. The noise was so loud she wanted to cover her ears and sit under a table until dawn.

Tenko never understood why Angie’s palace had to be so uncanny. It resembled a maze, with private rooms serving no particular purpose hidden on each floor… The deeper they went, the more surreal and ominous everything became – or, maybe, it was nothing but her own fear, crawling down her back?

“This is an act of justice and mercy.”

Everything was screaming to tell her that she had to leave – the walls, the statue, even Angie’s disturbing expression. Tenko perfectly knew the reason why: she didn’t belong in here.

“Atua desires to unite the world under one flag!”

She had other duties, seemingly nobler.

“He wants a world, where you can trust another.”

Tenko never wanted to belong.

**Cowardice**

“Why did you invite me?” Kokichi’s letter took three elite spies to decode, so Shuichi was expecting a serious discussion. He didn’t understand the true intentions behind his actions – well, nobody ever did. The Doge was a mystery, always doing the opposite of what the alliance wanted and expanding his sphere of influence at an alarming rate.

“I wanted to make sure you even had spies! Diplomatic missions are so boring. Are you completely unaware of the game you are playing?”

The boat went down the stream, passing by the colourful ornate buildings on a purple evening backdrop. The glass moon was peeking through the silk-like clouds, surrounded by numerous constellations, sprinkled like glitter.

There was something disingenuous about the cozy atmosphere, as if Kokichi set it up.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Nishishi! Too meek to be an emperor… How tragic!” he froze in a dramatic pose. ”Or… maybe not? Is it a lie or not?”

The very first thought Shichi had every morning was the upcoming congress meeting; in his dreams he saw the world falling apart piece by piece, slowly succumbing into madness. Angie’s plan to abolish all the religions aside from hers was terrifying enough, but the leader’s willingness to spy on each other, use blackmail, and declare wars because “means justify the ends” disturbed him even more.

He indeed perceived himself as too weak for this role.

“Everyone wants to win this game, Shuichi. I want it so desperately I buy my allies and mess with Angie’s,” Kokichi stated nonchalantly, watching the dark blue waves rock his boat. “You can try to be honest, but why?”

Is it really what humanity is like – utterly selfish and disgusting, deeply suffering from its own mistakes but never reconsidering them? Or was it only himself that he saw on the scene during the Noh performance? Or was it just his exhausted paranoid mind playing tricks on him, turning things into symbols and drawing unnecessary parallels?

“But are you honest though? Maybe you are just pretending to be the good guy while being friends with the most dangerous nation, known for its bloody history, and building schools teaching about enlightenment? How cute! Oh, what a hypocrite you are!”

“I am not lying to anyone!” Shuichi refuted Kokichi’s claims rather angrily, instantly regretting his words.”M-my goal is a world where anyone can live happily.”

“You know that Koreans are not the only nation in the world, ri-i-ight? There’s poverty in Rome, religious disagreements in China, famine in India… Do you want me to continue this list? I don’t see you fixing all that. Their weaknesses are your strengths. Don’t be such a liar, nishishi,” Kokichi continued with his shameless mockery. “Maybe Angie is the one in the right? Maybe she’s an obsessed fanatic who should be stopped no matter what? Those moral choices are the toughest, I swear. Why do you have to make them at all?”

Shuichi looked around, trying to come up with an answer convincing enough, but all his perfect logic was shattered and destroyed after he saw…it. The cursed Hannya mask was following him everywhere, watching him, judging him, speaking to him from beyond the spirit world. A nauseous feeling filled his stomach. Suddenly the perfect, stainless scenery of Venice appeared more uncomfortable than Maki’s haunted garden.

“Nishishi! An excellent work of art it is, indeed. I bought it while visiting Japan,” Kokichi pulled his dark hair back, so that the mask could fit. “I’m quite fond of it.”

Shuichi sighed.

**Monologues**

“Do you want to die?”

Nothing can be changed about the past.

Japan had been demonised and described as a villainous nation infamous for its animalistic cruelty, in spite of Maki’s attempts to prove everyone wrong. Maybe she should have stayed an outcast, just like the king of Babylon, who seems to spend all his spare time in the Great Library and The Hanging Gardens?

Last time, Angie successfully imposed a trade embargo against Japan. Not letting her next proposal through seemed like a personal challenge, as it meant that winning everyone’s trust was an impossible task to accomplish.

She felt bitter. Remorseful. Disheartened.

“Are you aware that betraying her and forming an alliance with me is dangerous?”

Maybe, they were right all along? History can’t be erased after all. To be completely accepted she had to throw her pride and identity away.

“Won’t she go after you?”

Maki couldn’t do this, even though giving up on everything seemed like the easiest way to achieve world peace.

“Aren’t you afraid of losing your connections to Egypt?”

What kind of a forced world peace was it anyway? Or was it selfish of her to desire independence and resist the world congress for the sake of her people? A war seemed unavoidable, but maybe there’s still something they could do?

Only thinking about it made her entite body feel tense.

“I believe I do the right thing, Your Highness. This has to be stopped.”


	3. Act 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of my little thought experiment.  
> I hope there is someone who enjoyed it as much as I did.

**The Mask**

Shuichi looked at himself in the mirror, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes, unhealthy pale skin, and sunken cheeks. The war threatened not only the safety of Korean citizens, but his own sanity; his worn out mind was on the verge of drowning in the sea that was of inescapable fear and doubt.

“How could this happen?” he asked himself. “Was it really the only solution to our conflict?”

The meeting Shuichi had with the Doge of Venice before the world went onto that downward spiral of more lies and betrayal left him in deep thought. Kokichi’s cynical, yet self-aware approach seemed reasonable: everybody was trying to win the game in one way or another, by either joining forces with one another or building tall. Angie’s tranquil peace, the alliance’s espionage, and even his own unwillingness to accept defeat… Each leader had a unique perception of their ideal world, free of oppression and injustice.

Yet, on the other hand, it was the most unfair and cruel world one could imagine, where no consensus could be reached.

“What did I do wrong?”

His palace, decorated with gravures and colourful wooden carvings, had a feeling of festivity to it. Normally Shuichi liked it this way, but now the flamboyant and unique interior was like an unfunny long-running joke, played over and over again until it became offensive.

Shuichi finished all the preparations and headed to the war table room, where he and his faithful advisors would discuss the next step to be taken.

The morning light filled the halls. Shuichi squinted, but at the same time the warmth was somehow comforting, like a loving mother’s embrace.

No. He didn’t want to believe the world was such a grim place, which is ironic coming from an anxious person prone to self-loathing and ruminating. But abandoning such high standards – towards the world and his own self – was the only way.

_A sacrifice had to be made._

“We should send navy to Beijing,” he stated, moving the small figures representing the geobukseon warships across the map. “It’s important to make sure the war doesn’t spread onto the land,” the advisors nodded as Shuichi continued.

“What do you think of investing into a new technology?”

“Yes, we should not forget about the research.”

“What about building a bank in Busan?”

“Yes, but on the next round I’m requesting a ship from there.”

Above the war table, Shuichi hung up the Hannya mask that’s been following him around for quite some time ever since that Noh performance. Made of fine materials and painted blood red, it was equally as terrifying as elegant, being the epitome of its creator’s admiration and the prime example of “perfectly imperfect”. It didn’t deserve hate.

It deserved pity.

He never figured its true meaning out, but looking at it made him think of himself.

**Behind the curtain**

She knew of it.

Angie tried to keep an eye on everyone, especially those quiet nations building tall and never participating in battle. Indeed, her ambition and willingness to win the game were not to be underestimated, even if her actions and words were backed up by Atua’s divine will.

Korekiyo was preparing an army, sending his lancers to the border. Who could guess that the politically invisible Babylonian nation would try to seize control over Beijing while everyone else is at war? What set of morals did the king follow? Did he have a higher goal? Was he a bloodthirsty maniac? Only god knows.

Angie finished her prayer and looked at the tormented statue, pleased. She would spend a lot of time at this improvised shrine of hers, thinking and meditating in the attempt to reach inner peace. The carved young man wasn’t a god, but a fellow believer, keeping her company on that tough journey to happiness. The artist who created him seemed to be the only one to understand what full dedication to one’s ideals meant: it was an immovable and unbreakable force, as strong as marble. Nothing could bend a stone’s will, even the said stone itself. Nothing could kill it. It was not alive and thus immortal, carrying the burden of faith on its broad shoulders.

_Looking at the statue made her think of herself, even though it was a lean man._

Angie, sweating and breathing loudly from the heat, smiled faintly and turned towards the war table; she had it moved to her private room, as the advisors were useless when it came to making real decisions. Nobody could understand how to rule Ethiopia but the beloved Empress.

“I need reinforcements,” she said to herself, shifting the figures representing navy. “Also, sending a prophet to Egypt is not a bad idea. What do you think, Atua? Oh, yes, I’m glad you approve of me,” Angie’s quiet voice sounded croaky, as if she caught a cold. Her hands, holding on to a small replica of a caravel, were slightly shaking

She didn’t have a huge army, just enough to defend the capital. Angie would always get troops as a gift from her allies, so instead she spent most of the time and money developing culture and putting up defenses. Others could fight for and instead of her. She was safe, since Atua protected his favourite messiah.

Right?

Right?

“I’ll invest into a new monument here.”

“Archeologists are ready to go.”

“Let’s focus on faith. Is my decision correct? Thank you for your guidance, my one and only god.”

The door suddenly opened, breaking the ominous silence of Angie’s altar and letting some cold air in, making her tremble a little. The messenger seemed clearly bothered by something.

“Y-your Majesty!” his voice was shaking from both the atmosphere and the news he was about to tell. “Your Majesty, we’ve been invaded by Babylon. They are burning our crops and breaking everything on their way to Addis Ababa! The people are dying! Please, we have to do something! I beg you!”

**Theatre**

After Babylon successfully attacked China and Ethiopia, he was dealt with by the allies. The territories were divided among all the participants. Angie’s religion lost its prominence, as the new way of life was adopted. The leaders decided not to choose a world religion, hence never fulfilling the Empress’ last wish. They did, however, try to establish world peace.

While visiting China, parts of which belonged to Korea, Kokichi met up with Shuichi.

“I’ve always believed in you, since you’re my favourite,” the setting sun turned the sky bright red; it was not an unpleasant colour at any means, painting the woods and the gardens a beautiful shade of orange. In the faraway haze they saw the silhouettes of the tall rocky mountains covered in greenery, almost touching the clouds and the first evening stars.

Nobody could believe that a war took place here not so long ago. The birds were coming back home after a long winter, signifying the beginning of spring – the time of rebirth and renovation. How symbolical. The parallel was so obvious the Doge rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, amused by this lucky coincidence. Ending the war next year during fall could make a better metaphor, but otherwise there was nothing to complain about.

“You should try to find a comfortable lie to believe in,” Kokichi suggested, taking note of the Emperor’s tired face. “Nishishi! You did the right thing, she was a fanatic and deserved it, Tenko is a traitor… The opportunities are countless! Try making something up.”

The Doge kept silent for a second, watching Shuichi’s sullen expression. It entertained him, making things more interesting than they already were. Such a dramatic scene filled with raw emotion!

“Oh, so you are feeling it too, am I right?” he chuckled, stroking his chin. “Alas, the game’s never going to end until there’s only one left! The peace treaty you guys signed is not gonna last,” Kokichi’s sly grin only widened. “The people are inherently evil and selfish. Everything they touch ends up being destroyed...”

“They don’t deserve hate for playing this unfair game.”

“H-how tragic! It was all a tragedy written by a cruel playwright!”

His words of mockery spread with a loud echo.

“C’mon, Shuichi, I don’t want to debate whether there’s a cruel playwright or not. What meaning does this choice carry anyway?”


End file.
